


Heart O'clock

by misterbananakun



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drabbles, Incomplete, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27602501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misterbananakun/pseuds/misterbananakun
Summary: george just wants to spend some time with dream.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	Heart O'clock

**Author's Note:**

> hey so i fell into the trap that is dreamnotfound like the clown i am :) and i have feelings so take this. warning! it is incomplete but i might add other drabbles later

“how long have you been awake?” dream asks casually, but his eyes are trained cuttingly on george’s face, no doubt already noticing the dark circles and the gaunt of his cheeks.

george shrugs, ignoring the question and turning around to shut the door. it takes dream’s eyes off of him at least. “do you want anything? is beer okay?”

dream doesn’t answer, so george assumes he’s out of hearing shot but as soon as he turns around dream is there, arms crossed with a no-nonsense look on his face. “you’re avoiding my question,” he says, managing to sound both annoyed and upset about it.

“i’m not!” george scoffs, hiding the nervousness and pushing through dream to get to the living room. dream just lets him through at least. “and i’ve _slept_ , okay? beer?”

“you’ve _slept_ ,” dream mocks behind him, padding too close for comfort. george can literally hear him rolling his eyes. “when? three days ago? a _week_ ago?”

he’s not wrong, is the thing. it’s been exactly 70 hours since george last slept but no way he’s going to tell him that. dream is just going to nag at him, force him into bed and then just _leave._ george doesn’t want that. also, dream hasn’t actually said if he wants any beer, and it’s getting very annoying.

“look, do you want to be here or not? you can leave if you want.”

dream actually doesn’t bite back this time. just looks at george, all steely and intense. george doesn’t like it, doesn’t want this stupid thing to ruin the easy way they’re with each other. this isn’t what george expected. the weird tension slowly dissipates as dream just shakes his head and heads to the couch.

“beer’s fine,” he says finally, settling into the cushions and draping all over it as usual. george watches the broad planes of his shoulders, fists clenched. he doesn’t get it. dream’s acting so weird. he gets the beer, contemplates chucking it at dream’s stupid face.

he ends up just pressing it to dream’s neck, earning a satisfying yelp of surprise.

“george!” he yells, grabbing george’s hands before he could retract out of the way. he’s always had crazy reflexes, and it never fails to surprise george when it comes out of the blue like this. george giggles as dream glares at him, then snatches the can of beer.

“you gremlin,” he hisses and george laughs, sitting beside him on the sofa. pretends not to notice the arm draped across the back, touching george as he sits, warm and inviting. at least they’re normal again.

they settle on the latest season of Great British Bake-off, dream getting progressively tipsy as he finishes his beer. his words slur. george watches him from the corner of his eyes, cheeks pink, eyes on the telly. he looks annoyingly good. vaguely, he thinks dream should get a girlfriend already. what a waste of good looks.

“what? you have something to say?” dream says suddenly, but his eyes stay fixed on the screen.

george looks away, pretends he doesn’t realize what dream’s talking about. “what?”

“you’re _staring_ at me, george,” dream drawls, all teasing and playful. “what, do i look that good?”

“you wish,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

dream chuckle, letting it go and puts a hand around his shoulder, proper this time. george tenses, unsure of the unfamiliar contact and it doesn’t take long for dream to notice.

“oh sorry, was that—?”

“it’s fine,” george cuts in, feeling stupid. it’s just a bro thing. bros do this all the time. it’s not a big deal. why is he making this a big deal? “i’m fine.”

“no,” dream says and retracts his arm, tucking it into his lap. george curses his stupid body for reacting that way. what the fuck. “i get it. not anyone is okay with physical contact.”

“i’m fine with contact!” george stresses, making dream look at him weirdly. “it’s not—i was just—agh! just—“ recklessly, he takes dream’s arm and loops it around his shoulder, hugging it tight around him. they’re far closer than they had been previously, but george is _not_ ruining this by being his stupid awkward self. they’re _friends_ , they can cuddle without any stupid feelings involved. and george does not have stupid feelings, so it doesn’t even matter.

“see? i’m fine,” he huffs, but he could _feel_ the muscles in dream’s biceps tensing, waiting to retract at a moment’s notice. george doesn’t budge and dream slowly relaxes, squeezing george’s shoulder as he looks to the side. see? everything’s okay.

“don’t make a big deal out of nothing,” george mutters, and hears dream chuckle. he sounds a bit nervous, but maybe it’s because he’s never seen george so assertive. serves him right. he’s not _always_ three steps ahead. sometimes george can be big-brained too.

they stay like that for a while, and the worse thing is that it’s _comfortable._ it feels like second nature, like george belongs in dream’s arms, or some corny shit like that. in fact, it’s so comfortable that george finds himself jolting awake from falling asleep several times (or maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, yeah george is inclined to believe it’s that one). if dream notices he doesn’t say anything, choosing to focus on one of the baker’s rambling on why apple pie is the ultimate pie, or something. george is too busy trying to not fall asleep.

he wakes up (shit, he really did fall asleep) at about arse o’clock in the late afternoon, groping for his phone on the low living room table. it’s like 3pm. he slept for what, 14 hours? shit. he’s alone too, and dream is nowhere to be found. he remembers waking up briefly in the wee hours of dawn; remembers finding himself comfortably snoring into dream’s chest. it’s vague but the memory is there, and he might or might not have cuddled closer. he doesn’t remember. (he’s not sure if he wants to).

george finds a blanket pooled at his feet and a pillow shoved under his head. dream must have woken up earlier and did all this without waking george up. it’s embarrassing, but there’s a warmth in his chest and he cannot stop smiling no matter how hard he bites his lip. he scrolls through the notifs on his phone and decides to ignores dream’s texts, going straight to call him.

wanting, oddly, to hear his voice above anything else.

“george,” dream’s voice is cheery through the line. _george_ , instead of hello, and it makes his pulse race. fuck. “could’ve sworn you were dead,” he jokes.

george groans. he suddenly remembers the argument, the way dream was worried about him not sleeping enough and he just snapped. now look who slept through their only free time together like a fucking idiot. and dream has said he’s busy for the rest of the week too, so there’s no way they can hang out together until like, next weekend. ugh.

“shut up, dream,” he says, and he swears he could feel dream smiling on the other end. he swears it.

“ooh, morning voice,” he teases, making george blush all the way to his toes. fuck.

“idiot.”

dream wheezes. “oh, did you see what i got you? i had a feeling you’d be starving after a sleep like that.”

george drags himself off the sofa into the kitchen, finding his favourite dish from the Chinese restaurant near campus. “oh my god, yes!” he exclaims, hearing dream laugh at him. “thanks, dream. and um, sorry.”

“what? what are you sorry for?”

george shrugs, slumping into his kitchen chair guiltily. he really wanted to spend some time with dream. really. and the only thing they did was argue, and then george just fell asleep. it’s not fucking fair. he misses dream. he _really_ misses dream.

“i just…” he sighs. “i wanted to spend some time together. and i ruined it because i didn’t have enough fucking sleep. and i lied to you about it, because i thought if you knew you’d just put me to bed and _leave._ and then i _snapped_ at you and i’m really sorry about that. i just really wanted to spend time with you—i didn’t want... i didn’t want you to _leave_.”

dream doesn’t reply for a long time, but george can clearly hear the background noises on the other line, so he waited. his own words filtered through his head belatedly. was that too much? did that cross the friendship line they had so carefully drawn? he doesn’t say i miss you, because that would definitely be too much. he doesn’t think dream would appreciate that.

“it’s fine,” dream says, after what feels like an eternity, and nothing else. george could tell dream sounds different than he did when he first called. so that means george probably crossed the line. fucking _again_.

“okay,” he breathes slowly, trying not to feel the hurt in his chest, blinking away the heat behind his eyes. he cannot believe he just fucked up a fucking phone call. “i…”

“george… i have to go. i have like, a ton of assignments and techno’s bugging me about it. i’ll call you, okay?”

george nods, blinking faster, but the tears well up and there’s something lodged in his throat. weird.

“george?”

he swallows. “yea.”

“i—okay, bye george.”

“bye.”

the line cuts off. george cries into his loh mien like a fucking loser.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are very much appreciated! my tumblr is http://misterbanbankun.tumblr.com do shout at me or just send prompts!


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